


Therapy

by moves_like_water



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e07 Yakimono, Kissing, M/M, Season 2, hostility, kind of cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moves_like_water/pseuds/moves_like_water
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place the morning after Will & Hannibal share the night together and the next morning are vaguely hostile while coming to terms with the nature their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> So this would take place sometime around Yakimono, right after Will is released from the BSH. Something old that I kind of liked and decided to post. Leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed!

I’d like to resume my therapy.

Will pressed himself closer to Hannibal, burying his head in the hollow of the older man’s throat. For hours his own words had rung through his head like a bittersweet melody. Something beautiful but so dark that it left a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Only days after being released from the Baltimore Hospital and he was quite literally back in the arms of the man who had put him there in the first place. Like he should, he felt guilty about it, the problem was that he didn’t feel guilty enough. Sure it was enough so that he had danced around Hannibal all night, consciously darting in and out of the doctor’s space until he’d been forced to make the first move. However, the sinking feeling wasn’t enough to stop him from tilting his head up to Hannibal’s and finding his lips with his own.

Will could feel Hannibal’s lips quiver ever so slightly as he smiled into the kiss. His fingers wove their way into Hannibal’s hair and pulled him impossibly closer. The older man’s hands dug into Will’s hips, the nails biting into warm skin. Will was painfully aware that they were both still naked- that he had fallen asleep in bed next to Hannibal Lecter after partaking in an act that he wasn’t particularly proud of but one he was immensely pleased with. There was just something about the fact that this was Hannibal Lecter, a man who liked to place himself on the level of God, that made the whole encounter so sweet. In Will’s mind he’d brought him down to a level more appropriate to his human status.

There was a faint metallic flavor of blood, and honestly he wasn’t sure if it was his, Hannibal’s, or simply a taste left over from Hannibal’s dinner. No matter the cause, he found he didn’t really mind.

It was funny to look at this relationship from a different point of view. Anyone who saw them from the outside, seen what he and Hannibal had been through, whether they knew the truth or what was accepted as truth, they would see how sick it was. He’d tried to kill Hannibal. More than once. Hannibal had framed him for murder. So maybe this was mad, but Will had given up on ‘crazy.’ All that mattered is that there was something inherently good about this relationship. Something more pure than anything he’d ever experienced.

When they pulled apart, Will took one of Hannibal’s hands gently and ran his fingers over the long pink mark along his wrist. It wasn’t quite healed, somewhere in between scab and scar. He didn’t regret that he’d caused this pain to Hannibal, his only regret was that he hadn’t cut him himself. His lips brushed against the mark, tongue darting out

“Do you wish you’d succeeded in killing me, Will?”

Hannibal’s voice cut through the early morning air like a knife. It was soothing and aggravating all at once. When he heard it he felt an urge to scream, though the same voice that caused his torment quickly covered his anxiety with a blanket of calm.

“No. For all intents and purposes, I’m glad you’re alive, Doctor Lecter.”

Will felt like he could hear the man smile, and at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if he could. The silence lasted a few minutes. Both men simply breathing in and out, listening to the quiet hum of the fan, and drinking in each other’s warmth.

“I dreamt about killing you again, last night,” Will allowed himself to break the silence. Only after he’d said it he realized how bizarre it was that this conversation was happening like this. This kind of talk had been strictly limited to Hannibal’s office before. Strange to be talking about it when in the man’s bed.

“And did you do it with your hands?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal pressed a kiss to Will’s forehead, a gesture that, in the circumstances, was as much  tender as it was a quiet threat. “Should I no longer feel safe in your presence, Will?”

Will smiled in spite of himself. “Not at the moment. I do want to kill you, but at the moment I  appreciate you more alive. I couldn’t have these conversations with anyone else.”

“Nor could I. I appreciate you Will.”

“But?”

“But nothing. I enjoy your company. And I enjoy watching you change. Watching you become.”

Will licked his lips and rolled over to sit on the edge of Hannibal’s bed. Hannibal watched him silently, brushing his fingers across Will’s arm as he slipped away. The predatory quality in Hannibal’s gaze hadn’t changed despite what had happened between them. If anything it felt more possessive. That was wrong for so many reasons, but it was another thing to add to Will’s list of accepting his new reality. Perhaps he could even grow to like it.

“I should go. I have to feed the dogs,” Will said as he finished buttoning up yesterday’s flannel.

Hannibal hadn’t moved as Will had gotten dressed. He had been staring at nothing in particular, contemplative. Will did find himself wondering what the man was thinking about. Even after all this time, all their conversations, it was still next to impossible to figure out what Hannibal Lecter’s thoughts looked like.

It was a mild surprise when Hannibal answered him, but it wasn’t much of a shock that Hannibal was still ever-attentive when lost in his own thoughts. “Stay. The dogs will be fine for just an hour or so longer. I’ll make you breakfast.”

Will chuckled dryly at that. He’d hardly been out of the asylum a day before Hannibal was offering him meat of questionable origin.

“You haven’t eaten properly in months.”

“No offense, doctor Lecter, but I’m still reeling from the last time you fed me something. Perhaps dinner, another night?”

“Very well.” Hannibal stood up and dressed himself in his casual morning attire, some hybrid sweat pant dress slacks and his ‘casual’ red sweater. A personal favorite of Will’s. “Allow me to see you out.”

Will let Hannibal lead the way to the front door. It was almost strange to not be using the patient door to his psychiatry office, but he wasn’t complaining.

Hannibal hesitated at the door, and it was a fluid motion for Will to step closer to the man. He was sad to be leaving, as much as he hated to admit it. Will matched Hannibal’s eye contact and their lips met. Gentle at first, and then something more passionate, their hands moving to hold on to each other. When Will drew back he had to give Hannibal some time to untangle his fingers from his hair.

It reminded Will of the first time they’d kissed. He’d always seen it as a grasp for stability, it was only now that he realized it could have been something more. As it was, Hannibal had been only one to be there for him. He had solidified his place as the closest friend Will had ever had after a few months of friendship. When it happened Will had just kissed Alana Bloom and been rejected. It wasn’t the rejection that hurt so much as the fact that her reasoning against it had been that he was unstable.

When he came to Hannibal he was scared. He knew there was something wrong, but to hear Alana say it struck a chord. Hannibal had discussed it with him. The kiss, Alana, why he felt the way he did. Though he had technically been Will’s psychiatrist at the time, he never felt distant like one. They had conversations as friends that also happened to be therapeutic. And for some reason, during their discussion Will had leaned forward and kissed his friend.

The first few seconds were amazing. It had felt so right to have Hannibal’s lips against his own. They were surprisingly soft and he tasted like the wine they had been drinking. There was a sense of relief, as if it was something that was supposed to happen and he had just realized it in that moment. Then it reached a point where bliss turned into realization. He’d kissed Hannibal, who wasn’t kissing back. If he’d thought a relationship with Alana was bad, what was he thinking kissing doctor Lecter?

And then Hannibal kissed back. Gentle at first, a hand moving up to stroke Will’s face. Then it turned passionate which was exhilarating and terrifying and so so sweet to know that Hannibal had been thinking the same thing. Someone to hold on to. That’s what Will had thought at the time. Now there had to be something more, something so much more. After all, why else would he find himself sleeping with the Chesapeake Ripper?

Their goodbye kiss was the same. Casual at first, and then becoming more intense, grabbing each other like there was nothing else to hold on to. Somewhere along the way they had promised something to each other. Will smiled at Hannibal when they pulled apart. He smiled and something inside him shattered; shattered or beginning to slip away to be replaced with something else. And for some reason, that something didn’t feel so bad.

 

 

 


End file.
